


A Gift of Time

by MaxBetta



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Time Travel, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-16 14:25:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxBetta/pseuds/MaxBetta
Summary: Sansa Stark meets a strange woman while shopping for a wedding gift. After drinking a mysterious tea, she finds herself in another place and time. She must find a way to survive until she can return to the present.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a crisp Saturday afternoon in Autumn, and Sansa Stark was strolling down a busy sidewalk in New York City. Leaves were on the ground all around, and in at least half a dozen different colors, dancing wildly with each occasional gust of wind. Sansa was on a mission. She was looking for the perfect wedding gift for her sister Arya and her soon-to-be husband Gendry. The trouble was, both of them were so difficult to shop for. Gendry had made it clear during their last family dinner that he didn’t care whether they received any gifts or not. Arya stated that she wanted things that were unique, not “useless crap like fancy china.” So what did that leave? Something different, unique, and uncommon. Continuing down the sidewalk, the scent of burnt coffee was wafting through the air from one of the nearby shops. Sansa wrinkled her nose, she had always been more of a tea person.

 

Stopping just before the crosswalk, she could see that there was an antique shop just ahead. Perhaps she could find something there. Crossing the road carefully, she stood in front of the store and admired the display window. There were dragons carved from jade, wooden tribal masks, and vases with intricate patterns painted on them. It was an unusual store. Maybe it would be the perfect place to find an unusual gift? Sansa pulled open the glass door and a small bell announced her entrance. She paused a moment, expecting someone to greet her, but nobody came. Looking around the room, there was so much to take in, but her eyes quickly landed on the furniture section. There were half a dozen wooden tables, all carved with detailed designs. Some had lions, dragons, dogs...and then she saw it. A wolf. There was a large ironwood coffee table that had a wolf carved into the top. It was beautiful. She had to have it. The wolf was part of the Stark family crest, and Arya had already announced that she would not be taking Gendry’s last name. It was perfect.

 

Sansa took another look around and noticed that there was a long glass counter along one wall. She found the cash register and stood by it, waiting. Right next to the register was a display of Chinese teas. They weren’t in loose leaves or bags, but instead they were large pucks. She picked up one of them and tried reading the wrapper, but it was all in Chinese.

 

“That one fermented Pu-erh. Fifty dollar.” An old Chinese woman had stepped out from a curtain without Sansa noticing. She must have been at least seventy years old and barely four feet tall.

 

“This...this tea is fifty dollars?”

 

“Yes. Good tea. Good price.”

 

Sansa was astonished that a simple package of tea could cost so much. “Oh, I’m sure it’s lovely, I just can’t afford to spend that much right now. I was actually going to buy the ironwood table with the wolf carving. Can you deliver?”

 

The woman surveyed Sansa before answering. “Yes, deliver. Twenty dollar.”

Sansa sighed. At this rate, she wished Arya had wanted something like a set of dishes. This gift was going to end up costing a fortune. “That’s fine, I’ll take it.”

 

The woman rang up the table and delivery charge, and Sansa put it on her credit card. She was filling out the delivery paperwork when she could feel the small woman’s eyes on her.

 

“You plain girl. No mind for adventure. Your life boring.”

 

Sansa wanted to tell the woman to mind her own business, but she thought it better to be polite. “I like my life, thank you.”

 

The woman squinted in disbelief, then disappeared behind the curtain. A few moments later, she came back with a small zip-top plastic bag and held it out for Sansa to take.

 

“This free sample. Steep five minutes. You like tea, you come back.”

 

Sansa took the tea and examined the chunk of brown leaves that were clumped together. “Oh, thank you. I’ll try it tonight.”

 

“I know,” the woman said. How odd.

 

Sansa thanked her again and left, hurrying to get out of the chilly air and back into her warm apartment. As soon as she stepped into her door, Theon, her cat, was whining at her feet.

 

“I know, I know, you’re hungry.” She filled his food bowl and patted him on the head. Going into the kitchen, she started the electric kettle and then chose a mug, emptying the contents of the plastic bag inside. Once the tea was brewed and strained, she went into her small living area and sank onto the couch, clutching the mug with both hands. The scent was heavenly. It had a strong, earthy taste. Nothing a bit of honey couldn’t fix. Finally able to relax, she drank her tea as she scrolled through Netflix looking for something to watch. She decided to continue binge watching "Sons of Anarchy." All of her friends were nuts about Jax Teller, but to her, Opie was the hot one.

 

A few more sips of tea, and Sansa noticed that she felt really good. Really, really good. It was as if she was relaxing for the first time in years. Her head began to feel a bit fuzzy, and her limbs started to tingle. She set down what little bit of tea was left, afraid she would spill it all over her couch. Was she having a stroke? Some sort of attack? Although those ran through her mind as possibilities, she didn’t feel any sense of panic. She just felt...good. Maybe it was because she was drinking the tea on an empty stomach. Perhaps if she had a little snack it wouldn’t affect her quite so much. Sansa tried making herself stand, but her legs wouldn’t move. It was as if she was somehow trapped inside her own body, but the realization came completely without fear. Before another thought could enter her mind, her eyes closed and there was nothing but black.

 

Sansa’s back was wet. She hadn’t opened her eyes yet, but she could feel it. Her couch had also become increasingly lumpy and uncomfortable. She could hear the TV still on. There was the odd male shouting here and there, and then the sound of metal clashing. She tried forcing her eyelids open unsuccessfully several times. The air was thick for some reason, and it was leaving moisture on her skin. She tried opening her eyes once more, and her body tensed with shock. She was lying on her back, and above her was a grey sky. She wasn’t at home. She was somewhere else. But where? She tried moving her limbs and brought one hand up toward her face. It was filthy. There was mud under her fingernails. She turned her head to the side and found that she was lying on wet grass. The male shouting continued. It was close by. After a couple of attempts, she was successfully able to sit up. Every muscle in her body ached. Looking around, there was an array of sounds, but not one person in sight. She was surrounded by fog. She began rubbing a sore spot on her shoulder when she saw him, an enormous figure dressed in dark grey armor from head to toe. A knight maybe? His helmet was different, though. It was shaped like the head of some kind of animal. Sansa gulped and noticed that he was running straight toward her and shouting something she couldn’t quite make out, waving a large sword in front of him. A dog. His helmet was shaped like the head of a dog. He was coming closer and closer, and suddenly Sansa was afraid. Fear gripped her entire body, all the way up to her throat. He would be on her in seconds, and she couldn’t even scream.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything that took place in the next few moments happened so quickly, there was no way that Sansa would have had time to react. The armor-clad giant turned his body seconds before reaching her, twisting his upper half, and scooping her up with one arm. The armor felt cold against her skin when he draped her over his massive shoulder. It was then that Sansa realized she wasn’t wearing the same clothes that had been on her just minutes ago in the comfort of her living room. She was wearing a dress made with flowing ivory fabric. It was tattered and filthy. Where did it come from? That was the least of her worries at the moment. The man holding her captive began running at a furious pace, carrying her as if she weighed nothing. He took them through the treeline and further into the forest. Branches smacked the back of Sansa’s thighs as they went, causing her to wince in pain. He said nothing. The further into the woods they went, the quieter it became. Before long, there was no more shouting to be heard. There was only the sound of birds chirping and leaves crunching beneath the man’s feet.

 

The man began to slow, his breathing became ragged. He stopped. Sansa expected him to set her on the ground, but instead he sheathed his sword and put the free hand in his mouth to make a sharp whistle. There was silence, then a thumping sound began approaching them. Out of the corner of her eye, Sansa noticed a shadow moving through the shade of the forest. As it came closer, she realized it was a horse. The horse was black and the biggest she had ever seen. It had a shiny coat and a silky black mane that seemed to float in the air as it ran. It approached quickly, then came to a halt just before it reached them. Sansa was admiring the beauty of the animal when it suddenly occurred to her to be terrified. This man, this beast, was going to kidnap her. She made an effort to scream, but a huge hand covered her mouth in a flash.

 

He growled at her through his helmet. “Quit your chirping! If you want to see your father, if you want to go home, keep your mouth shut!” Sansa desperately wanted to be home again, so she submitted to his demand. He mounted the horse swiftly, as if he had done it hundreds of times before. Once seated, he reached down and easily lifted Sansa up into the saddle. She was in front of him, completely encased in his huge form. A crack of the reins, and they were off like lightning.

 

Sansa wasn’t one for heights, or speed for that matter. Being on top of a horse that was racing through dense forest was bringing her anxiety to new levels. She was reminded of the time Arya had talked her into riding a roller coaster. The only way she could do it was by keeping her eyes glued shut the entire time. She decided to do just that again. She would squeeze her eyes shut as tightly as possible and keep them that way as long as she could.

 

They rode like that in silence for what seemed like hours. He never spoke, which was probably a good thing. Their surroundings were becoming darker and darker, indicating that it would be night soon. Sansa’s eyes were still closed most of the time. She had tried to make herself fall asleep, but she was too wired from all the excitement. A group of birds began calling from the treetops. The man behind her let out a grunt, then slowed the horse, eventually bringing them to a stop. He jumped down, hitting the ground with a thud, and then lifted her down as well.  

 

“It’ll be dark soon. We’ll stay the night here.” He reached up and lifted his helmet from his head, giving Sansa a glimpse at her mysterious captor for the first time. She glanced his way, saw the pink rippled skin on the left side of his face, and turned her head.

 

“What’s wrong, girl? Never seen an ugly man before?”

 

Sansa was insulted by his remark. She turned back to face him, making a point to stare straight into his eyes. “I was taught that it’s impolite to stare. I have no problem at all looking at you, if that’s your wish.” While she spoke, she noticed that his left eyebrow was missing, and the flesh there drooped slightly.

 

He regarded her for a moment, then pulled a handkerchief from his armor. “Your nose is bleeding.”

 

Sansa often got nosebleeds when she was scared or nervous. It was something that had afflicted her throughout her entire life. The man stepped closer and blotted her nose several times with the cloth, then stuffed it back where it had come from. How could someone so harsh and rude also be kind? She was going to thank him, but he spoke before she could.

 

“I’m going to gather wood for a fire. Stand right here and don’t move. If there’s trouble, whistle. I’ll be back.” He stomped off, leaving her standing there alone with the horse. There were so many thoughts running through her head. She had already imagined every possible outcome, every awful thing he could do to her. But, if his wish had been to harm her, he could have easily done it already. He behaved as if he were trying to protect her and keep her safe. He was ill-mannered, but perhaps he was just tired or in a bad mood. None of those things, however, had any bearing on the fact that Sansa still had no idea where, or when, she was. She would have to find out, and soon.

 

Several minutes later, the man returned with an armful of branches. He arranged them into a small pile, and struck two stones together to make sparks, lighting the branches. The resulting fire cast an amber glow on their surroundings. He grabbed two bedrolls from the horse and tossed them onto the ground. Then, he sat on a large rock that was close to the fire and started fishing around in a small bag.

 

“Here girl, eat. Your father won’t like it if I bring you back looking like a skeleton.” His hand held out a heel of bread. Sansa walked over and took it, then stepped back a few paces. This man seemed to know her father somehow. Perhaps there were other things he knew that could help her.

 

She finally spoke, her voice cracking. “How do you know my father?”

 

He scoffed and narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you playing at?”

 

“I’m not playing at anything, I just…forget.”

 

He held a wineskin to his lips and took a swig, then set it on the ground. “You want a story, like a little babe? Fine. The Lannisters demanded that your father, Lord Stark, offer you in marriage to their son Joffrey. When he refused, they stole you from your bedchamber in Winterfell and took you back to King’s Landing. They kept you as prisoner, until I came for you.”

 

Sansa was perplexed. Aside from her father, she had never heard of the other names before. “And...who are you?”

 

His frustration was evident by the scowl on his face. "Sandor Clegane."

 

Sansa knew to be cautious, but she had to press further. "And why did you come for me?"

 

He snorted. “Your father. He sent word round that there would be a reward for any man who would bring his precious daughter home. Gold, I suspect. I told him I’d do it in exchange for a pardon and my freedom. Lord Stark agreed.”

 

“But that’s ridiculous. My father isn’t a Lord. He’s been chief of police with the NYPD for the past six years."

 

He seemed confused. “N what? What in the bloody hells are you yapping about?” He noticed the bread in her hands, still uneaten. “I suppose you’re used to dining like a queen. Cakes and what not.”

 

“Not quite. I usually just nuke a frozen dinner.”

 

“What the fuck is that?”

 

“Well, it’s…it’s a kind of...oh, I don't quite know how to explain it in a way that you would understand.”

 

“Spare me your nonsense, will you? All your fancy words that mean nothing. Your bedroll is over there, next to mine. Close your mouth for once and go to sleep. We’ll need to be up before sunrise.”

 

Sansa cast her eyes at the ground and made her way over to her bedroll. She curled up on her side and took a small bite of the bread. It was hard and crusty, and she could feel each bite as it slid down her dry throat, but it was better than nothing. She still didn’t understand what was going on, but maybe if this man could get her to her father, she could figure it out. After a few bites, her hunger pangs subsided enough that she was able to relax, and her eyes drifted closed.

 

Sandor watched her with interest as he took another drink of wine. She was the key to his future. A new life. And he wasn’t going to let anything stop him from getting her home.


	3. Chapter 3

The sky was just beginning to lighten when Sansa awoke. Falling asleep the night before had not been without challenge. The cold had caused her to shiver, but at the moment she was quite warm. It appeared that he had put a blanket on her sometime in the night. No, not a blanket. A cloak. It was filthy and looked like at one time it had been white. A quick glance around revealed that his bedroll was no longer there. Sansa could hear a bit of mumbling nearby. She stood and tiptoed up behind a large tree to investigate.

 

It was Sandor, strapping his bedroll and a few other items to his horse. “That’s a good horse, now. Well done, Stranger. We’ll be at Winterfell in a few days time. Then you’ll get a proper rest and all the apples you can eat.”

 

His mercurial temperament was confusing to her. The man that yells at her and makes insulting remarks is also capable of blotting her bleeding nose, covering her with his cloak to keep her warm, and speaking sweetly to his horse. He was securing a leather strap when he looked over his shoulder and saw her watching him. She decided a thanks was in order.

"Thank you for the cloak, it was kind of you."

 

“Your teeth were chattering loud enough that I couldn't sleep. It’s about time you got up. Thought you would waste day away. Here, eat this. I’m off to take a piss.” He handed her a large apple and stepped off into the opposite direction.

 

There he was again, being crude with his mouth just seconds after she had heard him being kind. Sansa sat on the ground next to where their campfire had been and took a bite of the apple. It was crisp, sweet, and perfect. Certainly better than the stale bread she had choked down the night before. As she continued eating, her mind wandered to her current predicament. She was in some other time, but when? Sandor wore armor, and referred to her father as a Lord. Their mode of transportation was a horse, quite unusual for the majority of the 20th century. No, she must be back even further than that. Perhaps when he was in a better mood she could ask him a few questions that would narrow it down further.

 

She was mid-chew when she heard a branch snap behind her, followed by a deep growl.

 

“I am eating the apple just as you said, why are you…” Sansa stood and spun around to confront Sandor, only to find that she was a mere ten feet from a large brown bear. It was quite the intimidating sight. Standing equal distance from her and Stranger, the bear lifted its snout up toward the sky and sniffed at the air, its lower lip trembling. Sansa looked down at the claws. They had to be at least six inches long each. Backing up slowly, she tossed the apple onto the ground in case that was what the bear was after. It growled once more, sending vibrations throughout her body, and ignoring the fruit by its feet. It stepped closer. Sansa was out of options. There was nowhere for her to hide, and there was no way she would be able to outrun a bear. She did the only thing she could think of to do. Letting out a blood-curdling scream, she cowered onto the ground, covering her head with her arms.

 

Within seconds of her screaming, Sandor was there, tying the strings on part of his armor. He moved swiftly without saying a word. Unsheathing his sword, he backed away, calling the bear to him. His plan worked, the bear followed, giving Sansa respite. Not wanting to see her rescuer mauled to death in front of her very eyes, she began searching the ground for something, anything, that would work as a weapon. There were a few stones within reach. She picked them up until she had a handful and began throwing them at the massive animal. Sandor had finally stopped walking backward and was positioned between the bear and a large rock. He reached out with his sword and made several superficial cuts, but nothing that would slow down such a large beast. When all hope seemed lost, the bear stood on its hind legs, preparing to pounce on its prey. Sandor leaned onto the rock behind him and positioned his sword so that the base of the pommel was against the rock and the tip of the blade was angled toward the animal’s chest. When the bear came down with a fury, it impaled itself on the sword, dying almost instantly.

 

Sansa screamed in a panic. When she noticed the bear was no longer moving, she ran over to find that Sandor was trapped beneath its lifeless corpse. He was yelling something, but she couldn’t hear him through the mass of fur. Thinking quickly, she led Stranger over to the bear and tied one of the reins around its neck. She then led him away, and his strength was just enough to lift the bear’s body a few inches so that Sandor could escape. The moment he was free, he ran over to her.

 

“Did it hurt you?”

 

Sansa handed him Stranger’s reins. “No, just scared me. I’m fine.”

 

His look of concern quickly morphed into a grimace. “Of all the stupid things you could have done!”

 

Sansa was shocked. “W-what?”

 

“If you ate your food quickly like a normal person, the sweet smell wouldn’t have been around long enough to attract the bear. Have you any idea what could have happened? He could have killed Stranger, and then I’d be stuck here in the woods with you.” He turned to pick up Sansa’s bedroll and continued packing up the horse.

 

Sansa was furious. “I didn’t do anything to attract a bear. We’re in the forest, bears are in the forest, it’s as simple as that. And I’ll have you know, you big miserable barbarian, that I wouldn’t want to be stuck in the woods with you either!” She crossed her arms at her chest and huffed, almost on the verge of tears.

 

Sandor looked at her with surprise, but said nothing further. Once all of their items were packed up, he mounted Stranger and pulled Sansa up to sit in front of him. They rode in silence through the remainder of the morning. The rain began shortly after they started moving and was pelting them relentlessly with big fat drops. It was cold, and Sansa began to shiver. She could hear the sound of fabric moving behind her, and then felt a heavy warmth on her back. He had draped his cloak over her shoulders. Hours passed before Sandor made Stranger stop for a break. Once they had both dismounted, he finally spoke.

 

“I know the bear wasn't your fault. I wasn’t expecting it.”

 

Sansa decided the best course of action was to say nothing. He had given his version of an apology, and that was good enough for her. They each relieved themselves and were about to mount Stranger again when they heard men talking. The voices were coming closer and closer. They were not alone anymore. Sandor put Sansa up on Stranger and whispered instructions.

 

“If things go badly, go on without me. Stay North, keep to yourself, and you’ll make it.”

 

Before Sansa could respond, the men were approaching. One was tall and fat, the other short and rail thin. They were greasy looking, and dirty, and half their teeth were missing. They looked at one another, then back at her. The big one spoke.

 

“Oy, I know who you is! You’re that Sansa Stark that’s missing. There’s a prize of twenty gold pieces for your return.” He eyed Sandor, then shifted his gaze back to Sansa. “You alright, miss? Why don’t you come with us. We’ll take real good care of ya.” The two men looked at each other once again, cackling. There was no question of what they were suggesting.

 

Sandor was on them in an instant. He kicked the smaller one in the gut while he cut the other in two with his sword. Horrified, the skinny one pulled a knife, but then decided to make a run for it. Sandor caught up easily, came up behind him,  and sliced him from shoulder to waist. Catching his breath, he returned to Stranger, reached into a small pouch and retrieved a rag. As he wiped the blood from his sword, Sansa reached down and put her hand on his shoulder.

 

“Did they hurt you?”

 

Sandor looked up, recognizing genuine concern in her sweet blue eyes. “No, little bird. They didn’t hurt me.”


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Sansa awoke feeling only slightly chilled. Sandor had, once again, covered her with his cloak during the night while she slept. She sat up and found him covering up the remains of their fire. He had caught a rabbit in a snare the night before. They roasted it over the open flame and ate until their stomachs couldn’t take anymore. He kept trying to offer her more even when she knew he hadn’t eaten his fill. She noticed.

 

It was funny, weeks ago she had been talking with girlfriends about what qualities are attractive in a man. Sansa had mentioned bravery, protectiveness, and selflessness...all of which were being exhibited by this puzzle of a man before her. In an odd sort of way, she was beginning to enjoy his company. His cutting remarks didn’t cut her quite so deep anymore. She figured that his anger had nothing to do with her, that someone must have made him that way.

 

She packed up her bedroll and he strapped it onto the horse. They had developed quite the routine after just a few days. It was almost like a dance. They both knew what needed to be done, and they did it in silence. When all was finished, Sandor would mount Stranger and then lift Sansa up into the saddle as well. They would begin the day’s journey quietly and with efficiency. When it began to rain, he would cover her or move them under the shelter of a large tree. If Sansa shivered with cold, he would wrap his cloak around her, and sometimes rub his hands over the outside of her arms to create warmth. Occasionally, if she was really cold, she would lean backward so that her back was flush against his chest. The armor was cold at first, but then it would warm against her skin. He didn’t seem to mind.

 

When they had reached midday, Sandor tied Stranger to a tree so that he and Sansa could both relieve themselves. While squatting in the bushes, Sansa found a plant that had clusters of beautiful purple berries all over it. She picked a few and popped them into her mouth. They were bitter, but not terribly so. She picked several handfuls and used the skirt of her dress to carry them back to show Sandor.

 

“Look what I’ve found! Lovely purple berries. They’re not very sweet, but th…”

 

Before she could finish her sentence, Sandor was on her, knocking the berries to the ground and exploring her mouth with his hands. “How many did you eat? Gods woman, those are poison!”

 

“I ate three. But I feel fine!”

 

“Only because I stopped you from eating the rest. Look at you know, you’re covered in purple.”

 

“That’s because YOU knocked them out of my hands and they fell and burst all over my dress.”

 

She waited for him to retort, but he didn’t. Instead he offered a solution.

 

“There’s a small river just through there. You could wash your dress, and yourself.” He looked as if he had regretted his suggestion the moment he said it.

 

“Alright. I’ll be back in a bit.”

 

He stepped closer and put his hand on her shoulder. “I can’t let you out of my sight. I’ll stand guard with my back turned. You’ve already been attacked by a bear, a pair of no-good men, and poisonous berries. Gods only know what sort of trouble you’d get yourself into if I let you go alone.”

 

Sansa smiled and nodded in agreement, and they walked the short distance to the river. He kept his promise and didn’t watch her as she bathed and scrubbed at what remained of her dress. Fortunately, the weather had warmed a bit, so the water wasn’t as frigid as she had expected.  Once the dress was cleaned and wrung out to her satisfaction, she put it back on and joined Sandor on the bank.

 

“Well, I’ve managed to bathe without getting into trouble. We can head back now.”

 

Sandor hesitated a moment. “Not just yet. I’d like to take a swim as well.” He began removing his armor piece by piece until he was down to nothing more than a tunic and a pair of breeches. “You do just as I did. Turn around and wait.”

 

Sansa did as she was told and faced the opposite direction while he removed the remainder of his clothing and entered the water. She could hear him splashing about, swimming this way and that. A few times it sounded like he had gone underwater. After several moments, curiosity began to gnaw at her. She wondered what his body looked like under all that armor. The temptation to look was eating away at her, until finally she gave in. Very slowly, she moved just her head to the side and tried looking out of the corner of her eye. Once she noticed that his back was to her, she got brave and turned her whole body to take a full look at him. He was glistening from the water, and there was an expanse of hair that covered him from his shoulders all the way down to his lower back. His arms were a bulk of muscle, his back was rippled with muscles as well, and just above the water line she could see the beginnings of his buttocks. His body was a work of art, peppered with the occasional scar, marking him as a true warrior. She spun around quickly when it appeared as if he was going to look back. A few seconds later, she could hear him stepping out of the water and pulling his clothes back on.

 

“Alright, let’s get back to Stranger. We’ve a lot of traveling to do today if we want to make it to Winterfell tomorrow.” Sansa followed him back to their horse and they mounted as usual. They rode until sundown, then found a small area to settle for the night. Sandor set out their supplies, started the fire, and then pulled some fruit and a handful of nuts from a bag.

 

“Too late for rabbit tonight. This will have to do.” He handed Sansa her share and they each sat by the fire, munching on their meager dinner. Sansa would sneak glances of his face when he wasn’t looking. The scars that were so grotesque to her the first time she saw them were now something she didn’t even think about. They were just a part of him, like an arm or an ear. She was curious about how he’d gotten them, though. It was difficult to tell whether asking would anger him or not, but she decided to take the risk.

 

“Sandor, can I ask you something?” His response was a mere grunt. “What happened...to your face?”

 

He was quiet for several moments, but then he began to speak. He told Sansa of his brother Gregor, and how he’d had a wooden knight. Gregor caught Sandor playing with it, and without warning, pressed his face into a burning fire and held it there as he screamed. He was somber when recounting the details. A dull ache of sadness filled Sansa’s chest. What an awful thing to go through, and he was only a little boy. She now understood why he behaved the way that he did.

 

After finishing his story, Sandor abruptly said goodnight and went to his bedroll. Sansa could have almost cried for him, she felt so badly. She retired to her bedroll as well and made an attempt to get some sleep.

 

Sometime during the night, Sansa awoke. His cloak was on her again. She heard an odd sound and looked over toward Sandor. His body was trembling. He must have been cold. She moved her bedroll so that it was right up against his and then pulled at his cloak, spreading it out so that it covered the both of them. There was no need for him to freeze in order to keep her warm. After a few minutes of silence, they both fell asleep.

 

Even some thirty odd years since it had happened, it hurt him to think about it. The physical pain was gone, but the scars were a constant reminder of that moment which became a turning point in his life. Sandor had not been shivering from the cold. He was sobbing.


	5. Chapter 5

The following day was a blend of different emotions for Sansa. She was happy that they would be reaching Winterfell in just a few hours, even though she had never been there before. Or had she? According to Sandor, both her father and her sister Arya were there waiting for her. She was dying to know if it was really them, and if it was them, would they recognize her? What would they look like? And most importantly, would she feel a sense of being at home when she arrived? She hoped so. It had been days since she had awoken in this other world. She was beginning to lose hope that she would ever make it back home, back to her real home.

 

However, there were also feelings of sadness. Although her time with Sandor had had its rough moments, she had grown to care for him deeply. He’d made it clear that the moment she was safely back in Winterfell, he was going to accept the pardon from her father and be on his way. She would likely never see him again. The idea made her throat sore. There was something about his presence that made her feel safe and protected, like nothing in the world could touch her. When or where would she ever find another man like that? Most of the men in her time were more interested in finding the perfect Instagram filter than they were in taking care of a woman.

 

It was midday when she and Sandor could see Winterfell’s castle in the distance.

 

“Almost home,” he grumbled from behind her.

 

Again, a wave of sadness washed over her. The next hour or so would be the last that they would be together. He nudged Stranger with his calves and they began the home stretch of their journey. They didn’t talk, which wasn’t at all unusual. Sansa mostly stared down at his hands. They were big enough to cover a man’s entire face, she had seen that for herself. But they were also gentle enough to wipe blood from her nose, and kind enough to drape a cloak over her sleeping form as she shivered in the night. Tears began filling her eyes. Perhaps he was misunderstood. Perhaps he behaved the way that he did because no one had ever shown him any better. What if she was the only one in his entire life who understood him? If he had a woman in his life who would cook for him and care for him and love him...maybe he would be different. There was a trust between them now, anyone could see that. Sansa wondered if her father would see it, too. It was then that the idea came to her. When they arrived at Winterfell, she would speak to her father and ask him to keep Sandor there and, if he would agree, she would be his wife.

 

It then occurred to her, of course, that Sandor may not want a wife. He seemed excited at the idea of getting away by himself. But, that was before he’d met her. Things can change. If he knew that having her as his wife would be an option, maybe he would feel differently. She stared down at his hands again. For some reason, the sight of them gave her comfort.

 

They were a mere fifty feet from the gates of Winterfell now, and the guards acknowledged their presence.

 

“Halt!  In the name of Lord Stark of Winterfell! What is your business?”

 

Sandor answered for the both of them. “This is Lady Sansa. I’ve struck a bargain with Lord Stark. I’m here to see to her safe return and to collect my reward.”

 

The guards looked at one another, and then one of them took off running toward the courtyard. The other remained, watching both Sandor and Sansa closely.

 

After a few moments, the missing guard returned. “You may dismount and come in. Lord Stark and Lady Arya are waiting for you in the courtyard. We’ll see to your horse.”

 

Sandor huffed, but obeyed. He and Sansa both dismounted. When he set her on the ground, he expected her to run full speed through the gates, but instead she jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. She knew this would be their last moment alone together for quite some time. After a few moments passed, she kissed him on the cheek, and turned to walk toward the gates. Sandor froze for a few seconds, then soon followed after her with heavy steps.

 

As she approached the gate, she could see her father and her sister, but they were different. Her father had long hair and a full beard, and was dressed in leather and heavy furs. Arya was dressed in leather as well. Sansa smiled. The leather suited her. As she continued toward them, she felt warm and happy. She took one last step past the gates into the courtyard, and the world stopped. The ground opened beneath her, and before she knew it, she was falling. She could hear voices calling for her, but the deeper she fell, the quieter the voices became. She screamed. There was no Winterfell, no father, no Arya, no Sandor...there was only darkness.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Sansa felt like she had been falling for ages. Her limbs were flailing, hands desperately trying to grab at anything, but there was nothing. She had a sudden feeling that she was nearing the bottom. There was no way she would survive such a fall, not at the speed she was going. The intuition that told her that the bottom was near became more and more intense. She had a strong sense of impending doom, and she was powerless to stop it. Just when she felt like she couldn’t possibly handle it anymore, everything stopped. Her eyelids were heavy and felt as if they were glued shut. The ground beneath her felt soft and comfortable. Something was scratching her face with what felt like sandpaper. She tried opening her eyes again, still no luck. She listened for any sound that might give her a clue as to what was going on, but there was only a faint, intermittent humming. Reaching out with her hand, she felt warm fur. On her third attempt to open her eyes, she was finally successful.

 

She was home. Her real home. She was on her couch, and Theon was licking her face and purring like mad. She looked down at herself and saw that she was not wearing the torn dress that she’d been in for days, she was wearing the same clothes that were on her before. Before what?  Was it all a dream? She glanced over at the TV and saw that it was still on, but there was an “Are you still watching?” message across the screen. Looking at the window, she could see that it was bright outside. Early morning, perhaps? That was it. The tea drugged her, and she passed out on the couch and slept there all night. She grabbed her phone from the end table next to her to check the time, but it didn’t respond when she pressed the button. The battery was dead. Standing up with a groan, Sansa did a few stretches and then went into the kitchen to check the time on the microwave. 11:38AM.

 

Sansa walked over to the small dining table that served as a desk for her laptop. She wiggled the mouse and immediately several email notifications popped up. She was late paying a couple of her bills, and then there was an email confirming delivery of the table to Arya and Gendry’s place. None of it made sense. Quickly, Sansa clicked on the icon to open up her calendar. It was the day of her sister’s wedding! It hadn’t been a dream! Several days had passed since she had sat down on the couch with her mug of whatever the hell kind of poison tea that crazy woman had given her. Sansa looked again at the clock on the microwave. The wedding was scheduled for 3pm. She needed answers, and if she moved fast enough, she might be able to get them and still be at the wedding on time.

 

Sansa threw on a pair of muddy sneakers and a jacket. She filled Theon’s empty food and water bowls, and then bolted out the door. She was at the antique shop in a matter of minutes. When she opened the door, the bell rang, and she immediately headed straight for the desk.

 

“Hello?  Hello! Are you here?  I need to talk to you!”

 

There was the sound of a chair being moved across a hard floor, then a rustling, and finally the tiny woman appeared from behind the curtain.

 

“You too loud, girl. You scare customer away.”

 

Sansa wasted no time on formalities. “What was that tea that you gave me?”

 

The woman crossed her arms and grinned. “Free sample, I tell you.”

 

“I know it was a free sample, but what was it?  Was it some kind of drug or something?”

 

“I no sell drug here.”

 

Sansa narrowed her eyes at the woman. “Look...I drank that tea that you gave me, and something happened, okay? I thought it was just a dream, but now I think it might have actually been real. Can you tell me? I need to know if it really happened or if I was just dreaming it!”

 

“You smart girl. What you think?”

 

Sansa thought to herself for a moment. “If I drink it again...will I go to the same place?”

 

“Maybe. Maybe no.”

 

“You don’t understand. I met someone there. He’s...special. He thinks he’s ugly and worthless but he isn’t, and he doesn’t have anyone else in his life to tell him that. Nobody tells him that he’s thoughtful or brave or that he makes them feel safe just by being there. He doesn’t let anyone get close to him, but he was different with me. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t see him again.”

 

“Last time you here, you say you have happy life.”

 

Sansa’s face was overcome with an icy glare and she slammed her palms on the counter. “That was before I met him!”

 

Unflinching, the woman tapped the toe of one shoe on the floor a few times, rolled her eyes, and finally spoke. “You late for wedding.”

 

Sansa looked at the clock on the wall. The woman was right, if she didn’t leave now, she wouldn’t have enough time to get herself ready and make it to the wedding before it starts.

 

“Thanks for nothing,” she barked. Sansa crossed the shop and shoved the door open. She sprinted home and stripped off her clothes the moment she entered the door. She hung her periwinkle blue bridesmaid gown on the towel rack in the bathroom so that the wrinkles could steam out while she showered. The hot water felt so good as it soothed her sore muscles. She thought of the last time she had bathed, in that small river, with Sandor standing guard. He never peeked at her. Not once. She had looked at him, though. The memories seemed to form an ache in her chest. She missed him. She missed him so much that it hurt.

 

After her shower, Sansa dried her hair and curled it, then applied some natural looking makeup. She slipped into her dress and put on the silver strappy heels that she had bought for the occasion. She wondered what Sandor would think of her, all clean and dressed up. She could feel her eyes begin to water, so she grabbed a tissue from the counter to blot the tears. The idea that she was never going to see him again hurt her terribly, but she’d have to deal with those emotions some other time. This was Arya’s day, and she wasn’t going to spoil it.


	7. Chapter 7

By the time Sansa arrived at the church for Arya and Gendry’s wedding, there were only minutes to spare. She quickly found the bridal room for a last minute conversation with her sister. As she opened the door, a gasp left her when her eyes found Arya. She was so feminine and beautiful. The sleek form-fitting dress was perfect for her, and it was quite the contrast from her usual outfit of jeans and a t-shirt.

 

“Hey, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for days. Where have you been?”

 

Immediately, Sansa’s eyes began to tear.

 

“Whoa, no crying!  I’m not mad, I was just worried. If you start crying, I’m going to start crying, and then my makeup will be ruined.” Arya carefully walked over and gave Sansa a hug, being sure not to wrinkle her dress.

 

“Sorry, you just look so pretty. I wish mom could have seen you like this.” Sansa grabbed a tissue from her purse.

 

“Yeah, I know.” Arya was trying to stop herself from being choked up as well.

 

“I can’t believe it. It seems like just yesterday you guys met, and here you are, getting married."

 

“Life's crazy, isn't it? I never thought I’d be the marrying type. But I also never thought it could be like this. That I could meet someone who I get, and who gets me, you know what I mean?”

 

Sansa swallowed and blotted at her eyes with the tissue. “Yes. Yes I do. It’s a great feeling.” She, too, had felt that way. Once.

 

They kissed one another on the cheek and then, along with the rest of the bridal party, headed to the sanctuary lobby to wait for their cue to enter.

The wedding went beautifully. Ned gave Arya away, and there wasn’t a dry eye in the church when the priest acknowledged that a seat was left empty in honor of Arya’s mother, Catelyn, who had succumbed to cancer the year before. When the service was over, everyone in the bridal party stood outside for photographs. Sansa couldn’t remember when she had ever seen Arya so happy. She envied her a little. Here she was with the perfect man for her, and he was real, not some hallucination or fantasy. And she didn’t have to ingest any mysterious substances to see him.

 

When the session with the photographer was over, everyone got into their cars and drove to the reception hall. The place had been decorated look look like a sports bar, a reference to the place where Arya and Gendry had first met. There was a band playing 90’s rock covers, and when their set was done, a deejay took over. Sansa kept to herself mostly. It was such an odd feeling, being surrounded by couples who were happy and cheering and dancing, but inside she was filled with nothing but sadness and turmoil. She couldn’t help but feel that she would never have this. She had thought about the tea almost nonstop since leaving the antique shop for the second time. There was no guarantee that she would go back to the same place and time, so what was the point? No, she had decided. It wasn’t worth the risk. She was certain that she would never drink that tea again. Which meant, of course, that she was surrendering to her boring life. A life without adventure. A life without Sandor.

 

Gendry and Arya were making the rounds, greeting all of the guests and thanking them for coming. They finally managed to corner her over by the bar.

 

“Heeey, sis. I can call you sis now, right?” Gendry patted her on the shoulder.

 

“Yes, I guess so. It’s official now.” Sansa forced a smile, but she wasn’t able to hide the sadness that radiated from within her.

 

“Hey, I know it sucks to be the only single person here, but a buddy of mine is coming, he’s just running late.”

 

“As usual,” Arya chimed in.

 

“Hey, speak of the devil!” Gendry waved at someone behind Sansa and motioned for them to come over. “Clegane! Over here!”

 

Clegane? Sansa froze for a second. She must have misheard. There was no way. It wasn’t possible. Daring a peek, she slowly turned around and found herself face-to-chest with a man. Looking up, her eyes met his, and instantly something exchanged between them. It was him! Or some version of him, at least. He had the same face, the same body...but his hair was shorter, and his beard wasn’t quite as unkempt. Her body warmed and she felt goosebumps forming on her skin. Without a single thought as to whether or not it was appropriate, Sansa wrapped her arms around his neck, just as she had at Winterfell’s gates, and pulled him down for a kiss.

 

She released him afterward and looked up into those eyes that she had become so familiar with. He had yet to acknowledge anyone else in the room. He was focused on her and her alone.

 

When his shock wore off, he finally spoke. “Why does it feel like we’ve done this before?”

 

Sansa smiled up at him, straightening his tie. “Maybe we knew each other in another life.” Tears began to well in her eyes again, and he was clearly confused.

 

“Don’t cry.” He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief, then gently blotted at her tears. “Are you going to be okay?”

 

Sansa could not have been happier. “Yes. I think I’m going to be fine”

 

The deejay began a slow song and all of the couples were swaying together on the dance floor. Sandor smiled and took her by the hand. “Shall we?”

 

Sansa nodded, and he led them to the center of the dance floor. He had one arm around her back and his other hand was on her hip. Arya and Gendry looked on from the bar, absolutely dumbfounded. They didn’t understand what the hell was going on, but they were glad to see Sansa and Sandor so happy.

 

As they danced, Sansa couldn’t help but stare at Sandor. She looked at everything. His ears, his nose, the corners of his mouth. Unfortunately, her staring did not go unnoticed.

 

“It’s the scars, isn’t it? It’s okay, I’m used to it. People stare all the time.” He looked defeated.

 

Sansa placed one hand on the scarred side of his face. “Actually, you remind me of someone.”

 

He grinned. “Someone from another life?”

 

“No.” She rested the side of her face on his chest and sighed. “Someone from mine.”

 

He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She could hear his strong, steady heartbeat. This time when the tears started, she didn’t try to stop them. She was in the arms of the man she loved, and nothing else mattered.


End file.
